You Can't Leave Me
by dogbert-day
Summary: HarryOliver, don't like dont read. Harry and Oliver have lived together for two years and are more in love than anyone could imagine, but, could a sequence of strange dreams that plague Harry's mind tear the two apart? Please review
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone! MY turn to post a Harry/Oliver fic! I've had this for ages but never posted it, I just hope you like it! If you have read my other stories, you will notice a similar theme, I just had to write a story with these characters! Enjoy!**

Harry Potter was curled up on the sofa in his cosy little apartment above Diagon Alley. His messy black hair was sprawled across his face and his dark blue t shirt crumpled as he shifted slightly, rolling onto his back as he slept. His blanket had long since fallen from its rightful place of surrounding Harry to keep him warm, and it now lay, almost helpless on the carpet. Harry's chest rose and fell lightly as he breathed deeply, the start of a seemingly blissful dream playing through his mind.

He was soaring high in the air on his broomstick, far above the realms of reality. A bright sky sparkled, as though it was made from gems holding every shade of blue in their glistening depths.

The icy cold wind was whipping against his face flew higher and higher. His breath started to condense into tiny blue wisps of cotton that gently floated away, swirling into a mass of colour as they mixed with the pink and green clouds that surrounded him. As he passed through the different coloured clouds, wondrous smells filled his system and bright spots of purple danced in front of his eyes.

Still he rose higher. He could see nothing of the earth below, only the magical sky that surrounded him. The air increasingly began to close in around him and an intense pressure pushed with a sinister force against his skin.

He closed his eyes tightly as he began to get colder and his hands began to shake uncontrollably, creasing as they seemed to fight the bitter wind.

He was starting to panic.

He couldn't stop rising. It was almost impossible to breathe now and he couldn't even remove his hands from the handle of his broom, they were stuck and they refused to shift from their intense position.

He started to move faster.

He tried to scream for help, but every word that left his mouth froze in front of him and plummeted back to Earth. He continued to shout and he flailed his body about, desperately trying to steer his broom back to the ground, however, this only seemed to increase the speed at which he was climbing into the endless sky.

As his strength was slowly drained from his body, he couldn't help but let tiny tears tumble from his eyes. As they slipped down his cheeks, they crystallised, forming minute, razor sharp diamonds which cut at his skin as they fell.

"Harry."

The black haired boy could hear, and feel, a heavenly voice surrounding him as he cried, his face was torn and frozen blood encrusted his face. He continued to rise and the slashes on his skin started to burn. As each diamond tear dripped from his chin, they struck the rest of his body, shredding his clothes, tearing at his milky white skin.

"Harry."

He could feel warmth emanating from the voice and a silken cloak, filled with heat and love seemed to fall gracefully around his shoulders. All worry was leaving his mind and all he could focus on was the beautiful voice.

"Harry."

His hands slipped from the handle as the voice came to whisper at his ears.

"Harry."

The soothing sound of those five letters slipping from the tongue of the silken angel encased him as he felt his body go limp. His shivering form almost flowed through the air as he tumbled from his broomstick. The whistling air pounded at his ears as he sped towards the ground, but still the voice haunted him without any hint of worry or concern. Nothing was saving him from his endless descent.

"Harry."

Harry opened his mouth and forced out a pained whisper.

"Why won't you help me?"

He turned his head away from the sky and instantly smashed into a solid, black earth.

"HARRY!"

Harry ripped his eyes open and he jerked upright as the voice screamed his name. He blinked and breathed for what seemed to be the first time in his life. His vision re-focussed and he came face to face with two deep, worried, beautiful brown eyes.

**Well? What do you think? I don't know whether to continue this or not. I'm sorry it's so short, if you want me to continue I will make the chapters longer. Please review! **


	2. Oliver

**Thanks for the reviews so far, this may be quite a short story, it all really depends on whether people really want me to continue once I get to my approximated end! Sorry I haven't updated in such a long time, I had severe writers block. In this chapter, we introduce dearest Oliver! Yay!**

Harry was drenched in a cold sweat and he was writhing around on the sofa, his eyes tightly closed, whimpering quietly.

It was happening again.

Oliver had seen this happen before, many a night had he woken up to find the boy screaming beside him, thrashing about wildly, pain scratching through his features. Harry had arrived at the point when he never wanted to sleep again. Over the last fortnight, Oliver reckoned Harry had only received eight hours sleep. Two days ago, Oliver had returned from Quidditch practice to find Harry brewing a potion that Oliver later found out would keep him awake for a month. Unbeknownst to Oliver, Harry had brewed enough to last him the year.

Today, Oliver had entered the flat which he shared with his boyfriend and found him asleep in the living room, writhing on the sofa, a pain filled dream threading through his mind.

Oliver fell down onto his knees beside the sofa, beside himself with worry. Carefully he brought his hands up to rest on Harry's shoulders. Harry seemed to calm slightly at the gentle touch but his face was still wracked with fear. Oliver tried to speak to him. He had to wake him up.

"Harry."

At the speaking of his name, Harry whimpered again.

"Harry." Oliver repeated, trying to keep as calm as possible as not to startle the younger boy.

"Harry." Oliver was beginning to panic, he didn't want to rip the boy from his dream, that could be a very bad move, but then again, he desperately wanted to wake him and save him from his nightmare.

"Harry." Oliver started to shake his shoulders gently.

"Harry." Harry had started to twitch violently and he slowly opened his mouth and let out a shuddered moan.

"Why won't you help me?"

Oliver couldn't take it any more and he screamed his name.

"HARRY!"

The black haired boy bolted upright, his eyes wide with terror. He was as white as a sheet and his breathing was ragged.

"Harry?" Oliver asked gently as their gaze locked. Harry urgently brought his hands up to his cheeks then pulled them forwards to stare at his fingers. He sighed in relief and let them fall to his lap.

"What's wrong?" Oliver whispered. Harry was silent for a time, catching his breath. He hid his eyes from his boyfriend and curled his legs up to his chest.

"My face was bleeding." He mumbled.

The sight of the black haired boy in such obvious mental pain ripped through Oliver's heart and he wrapped his arms tightly around the thin figure in front of him.

"It's okay, I'm here."

Harry sighed again and accepted the gesture.

Harry had been so tired, he couldn't help but fall asleep when he sat down on the sofa to watch TV. In fact, he felt as though he was slipping back into a light slumber at that moment. He couldn't help it, Oliver was always so comforting. Harry jolted his head back so he wouldn't fall asleep and he stifled a laugh when Oliver jumped then proceeded to stare at him intently, silently asking what was wrong.

"It's okay, I felt like I was falling asleep that's all." Harry smiled and he could see the relief on Oliver's face.

"Well, you really do need to sleep but I hate to see you like this." He muttered, absently stroking Harry's hand with his thumb.

"I'm okay! Honestly!" Harry chirped, an optimistic smile lighting up his tired and sullen face. Oliver chuckled at the courage that surged through his boyfriend's veins.

If only Oliver had that much courage.

Oliver had been battling with himself for months. Harry and Oliver got together three years after Harry had finished school. Harry had grown into a brave, charismatic, and to Oliver, a beautiful person. After a year of dating, the two had decided to move in together and they had now been living for ten months in a small two bedroom flat in the heart of London.

It had been on the night they moved in.

Harry had told Oliver that he loved him.

Oliver had so desperately wanted to say it back but a tiny voice that played at the back of his mind had told him otherwise. He had never had the guts to tell Harry how he felt and now that Harry was having a tough time coping with his nightmares, Oliver didn't want to inflict a shock to his system.

Oliver loved Harry. It was obvious to anyone who even glanced at the two when they were together. Oliver loved every tiny little thing about the black haired beauty. His voice, his eyes, his smile, and his heart. He had been drawn to the boy from the moment they had met. He had treasured every second spent in Harry's company and he was not going to let Harry slip away.

"Come on Harry, we're going to the Weasleys'. It's about time they knew what's been happening to you."

Oliver stood and took Harry's hand gently in his own. Harry seemed uncertain.

"But they'll only worry."

"Exactly. We can help you Harry but first you need to help yourself. They're like your family so I'm sure you won't regret seeing them."

Oliver offered Harry a reassuring smile and gently tugged to help Harry up. Wrapping his coat around the black haired boys' thin shoulders, Oliver pulled Harry close to his chest, a warm glow surrounding him as their bodies touched.

Within a second, the two were standing outside the Burrow.

**Thanks again for the reviews and sorry again for not updating sooner, the story would have made more sense if I had. Please review and tell me what you think. Thank you!**


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